’Twas in the temple where I first beheld her,
And now again the same. What omen yet
Follows of that? None but imaginary?
Why should my hopes of fate be timorous?
The place is holy, so is my intent:
I love her beauties to the holy purpose,
And that, methinks, admits comparison
With man’s first creation, the place blest,
And is his right home back, if he achieve it.
The church hath first begun our interview
And that’s the place must join us into one;
So there’s beginning and perfection too.
O, sir, are you here? Come, the...